


Death and the many forms she takes

by siren_of_the_ocean



Series: Tim Drake AU's [34]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman Contagion ( Comics), Batman Eternal (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: BAMF Tim Drake, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Near Death Experiences, Self-Sacrifice, Temporary Character Death, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake-centric, character illness, descriptions of injuries, the Clench
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29463804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siren_of_the_ocean/pseuds/siren_of_the_ocean
Summary: Tim has seen many versions of Death. The Angel of Death, The black Racer and Death.He's never met Death of the Endless. Or at least not that he remembers.These are the 3 times Tim has met Death.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Death, Tim Drake & Death of the Endless
Series: Tim Drake AU's [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853161
Comments: 13
Kudos: 161





	Death and the many forms she takes

**Author's Note:**

> TW for temporary character death and all the tags that go with it.

Tim knows that his chances of survival are low at this stage. 

The Clench is merciless. It rarely leaves survivors and those that do live through, rarely recover fully. Tim knows all of this. He’s read the statistics and now? Now he’s living it. 

All the muscles in his body ache. His bones feel like they themselves are in pain. His joints are trying to kill him. His organs are rebelling. And his skin can’t decide if it’s hot or cold. 

It’s the worst Tim has ever felt in his life. 

Another wave of shivers rack his body as he whines, skin feeling too hot and yet he shivers anyway. His movements make the pain in his bones spike, causing him to whine more. 

He’s in the cave, alone. Batman is out, trying to find a cure, as is Azrael. Alfred is upstairs, cooking some soup because that might be the only thing he’s able to hold down right now.   
But for the moment? He’s completely alone.   
It causes another shiver to run down his spine. This time, it isn’t caused by the fever or the pain. It’s dread. 

He can feel himself weakening. It’s one of the downsides of Bruce’s training.   
Mindfulness, in most situations, is a great thing. But right here, right now. It’s a burden Tim never wants to bear again.  
It means he can hear his heartbeat slowing as the shivers die down. His throat is still clogged but when he tries to cough, it’s weak. His fingers refuse to respond to his commands, even when he tries reaching for Alfred’s call button.   
He knows that he’s dying. 

There’s nothing that he can do to stop it. 

His fingers slip from their position on the railing and Tim can barely feel them hit the mattress. His eyes slip shut. The last sound he hears is one long, continuous beep from the heart monitor as his awareness fizzes out. 

But he doesn’t fade. 

Instead, Tim opens his eyes again, not feeling pain. He doesn’t feel tired. It’s a sensation he hasn’t felt in a long while.   
“I was wondering when you’d fade” a voice says from right next to him. From over his own body, apparently. He looks pale, sickly and tired. Like a corpse. Because that’s what he’s looking at. He’s looking at his own corpse.   
“Where am I?” Tim asks, a tad louder to be heard over the scream of the heart monitor as it continues to announce his demise. 

“I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I?” the person asks, and when Tim glances up, he frowns, confused.   
The woman is pale, unhealthily so. Made even worse by her pitch-black hair and clothing. A normal black sleeveless shirt, black jeans, black gloves and a studded belt. The only source of colour from a silver necklace in the shape of an Ankh.   
“I’m Death. Pleased to meet you, Tim” she says calmly, giving Tim a kind smile. 

“You aren’t death. I’ve seen death. The black racer, the reaper guy” Tim says before she laughs and says “You’ve seen versions of Death, sweety. You’ve seen the death of speedsters and the death of people. But I am Death. I am Endless. I am not an embodiment of death. I am Death itself” she explains with a small giggle.   
“I have existed since the first people were brought to life. And I will exist until there is no life left”   
“Then why am I still here? Why are you explaining this?” Tim demands, still unsure.   
“Because death is kind. Death doesn’t have to be violent, you know? I’m giving you answers because I want you to move on safely, Tim” she says. 

Motion draws Tim’s attention away from her as Alfred sprints into the cave, dropping a bowl of soup to the floor, ceramic shattering.  
Alfred.   
He’s going to be devastated. 

“No” Alfred proclaims, as he looks down at Tim’s body, grabbing the paddles for the defibrillator.   
Both Tim and Death watch as he sets dials and stands back, administering a shock. Another. Another. 

And suddenly, Tim feels woozy, weak.   
“Ah. It seems you are lucky, Tim” Death says before she fades from view completely. 

Pain. 

That’s it. That’s all Tim feels as he opens his eyes to see Alfred looming over him with 2 paddles.   
“Alfred. What happened?” Tim asks weakly, his chest sore and muscles spasming still.   
“My dear boy. It’s OK. It isn’t important anymore. Just rest. Master Bruce will return with the antidote and it will all be fine” Alfred says but it’s harried and panicked. Desperate in a way Tim had never seen from him. 

But Tim is weak. His head hurts. He can’t remember anything but the feeling of dread when his heartbeat slowed.   
He can’t remember. But when he closes his eyes, he has the faint image of a girl with pale skin and black hair smiling at him. 

Xxxxxx

Z is dead. 

Owens and Pru are injured at best and dead at worst. Tim doesn’t know. All he knows is that the man in front of him caused it. 

The black googles give nothing away as the man steps back, drawing the sword with him and removing it from Tim’s body with a scrape of metal on bone.   
“The council of spiders thanks you for your participation in the game” he says before leaving. Tim wishes he could follow, wishes that he could fight back.   
But his knees collapse out from under him, the stinging in his side crescendo-ing into a wave of pain so intense that Tim can feel his eyes strain. He collapses the rest of the way down into the sand with a half-muffled scream as blood bubbles its way up his throat. 

And then, it’s quiet. So so quiet. 

A sigh from his left gives him a wave of deja-vu as Tim turns to see his dead body at his feet. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon, you know?” a girl asks from right above his body.   
Pale. Black hair. Black clothes. Ankh. 

Suddenly, he remembers. The Clench, the whine of a heart monitor. Death.   
“Am I dead? Again?” he asks her, this time simply accepting her explanation as truth and for that, she gives him a small smile. “Yes. I didn’t expect to see you so soon, you know. Most people prefer not to die so often. Even if they don’t remember meeting me” she says fondly. 

“I didn’t remember. Not until now” Tim muses softly but she hears him anyway as she says “People aren’t designed to contemplate their own mortality. Nor are they supposed to know how it feels to die. How it feels to be dead. It’s why Jason doesn’t remember, either”. 

Staring down at his own body, Tim feels like he’s floating. It’s strange. It isn’t the first time he’s seen a corpse, not even the first time he’s seen his own corpse. It doesn’t make it any less strange.   
But it does mean that he can see something in his armour light up, sparking lightly and then sparking much stronger. 

“My armour. It’s about to bring me back. I installed a defibrillator that goes off whenever my heart has been still for more than a minute” Tim says as another flash goes off, this time jolting his whole body as it spasms.   
“Ah. Next time then, Tim” Death says again as she moves away. 

The feeling this time is dulled. Pain comes back first, as always. Waking him to the feeling of being stabbed and damaged.   
But he’s awake.   
He’s alive. 

Moving to take the pulses of Owens and Pru, the conversation from a moment ago fades from memory, just like the time before. 

Xxxxxx

He can do it.   
He can stop the drones.   
He can stop the Colony. 

All he has to do, is die for it. 

Tim has never been afraid of dying. But now, standing on the roof of the Bellfry, with a phone in hand, Tim will admit to himself that he’s scared. 

He can save countless people. All he has to do is press a button. But he’s scared. 

Of course, Tim presses the button anyway. 

With ash on his tongue and the taste of blood on his lips, he stands there, waiting. He can see the drones drawing closer and closer to him, guns aimed and primed.   
He knows that he’s going to die here. It’ll destroy Bruce. Cass might never forgive him.   
But Tim will never forgive himself if he lets innocent people die just because he’s afraid. 

The shots rain down all at once, piercing through his flesh all at once and ripping him open.   
But Tim doesn’t die instantly.   
No. 

Awareness does fade, light draining from his eyes as he drops. But he doesn’t see the portal open up to greet him. 

“Tim! Wake up! Wake up now!” a familiar voice calls from Tim’s left and when Tim opens his eyes, he sees Death.   
She’s flickering in and out, black hair wild as she looks at Tim with desperate eyes. “You won’t be able to stay long. You’re already filtering back” she explains with a calm voice, eyes softening as she takes in the wounds already healing in Tim’s skin.   
“Destiny has plans for you, Tim. Be ready” Death warns. 

And the next Time Tim wakes up, it’s in a cell, alone.


End file.
